


World Behind My Walls

by charmed_seconds



Series: Song-Fic Series [11]
Category: Charmed
Genre: Blind!Chris, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-23
Updated: 2012-06-23
Packaged: 2017-11-08 08:37:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/441272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charmed_seconds/pseuds/charmed_seconds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris was blinded in a demon attack and now has to come to grips that he may never see again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	World Behind My Walls

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of the song "World Behind My Walls" by Tokio Hotel.

Everything was so dark.

                He could hear everything.

                Feel everything.

                But yet, darkness encompassed him.

                He felt like an outsider in his own house – within his own family. They didn’t know what to do with him; and honestly, he didn’t know what to do with himself. He felt disconnected from the world around him. He idly sat in his room, on his bed and just…listened.

                He could hear the weatherman say that it was supposed to rain tomorrow, so the children should catch the sunlight while they could. He could hear his mother screaming at his father, demanding that the Elders tell her why his eyes wouldn’t heal. Faintly, he could hear Wyatt pleading that they quiet down, and he could hear one of his cousins sniffling.

                Only blind for five days, and already his hearing was making up for the lack of sight. If he wasn’t so distraught, he would have to admit that the human body was strangely cool. Whimpering, he burrowed his head into his knees, holding back tears. He heard his bedroom door open, but he didn’t glance up. It didn’t matter. All he would see would be back.

                He felt arms – muscular and unique to his older brother – wrap around him, soothing him. He pushed his face into Wyatt’s chest, tears soaking the fabric. Leaning back, Chris slid his hands up Wyatt’s chest before he cup Wyatt’s face. His finger ghosted down the bridge of Wyatt’s nose. He could faintly feel the small bump from when Wyatt broke his nose when he was seven. Next were the cheeks. That sharp pricks of hair told him that Wyatt haven’t shaven since Chris lost his sight. His brother’s hair was slightly oily, meaning he hasn’t showered in a day or two either.

                Licking his lips, Chris tried to hold back more tears. This was his ‘sight’ from now on. No more loving glances. No more gazing at the stars with his lover. No more…seeing the simple smile that blossomed on Wyatt’s face when he’s done something amazing. Or seeing his mother’s eyes light up when her youngest son took a step farther in following her culinary footsteps. He wouldn’t be able to see his father’s comforting look. Everything. Gone.

                Tears slipped from his grasp and he felt Wyatt tug him so they both were lying down.

                No more blue sky.

                No more green grass.

                No more simple wonders that came from sight.

                He heard his brother whisper that he should just close his eyes and go to sleep – that it was late.

                Chris’s tears only intensified.

                What was the point of closing his eyes when darkness already surrounded him?

 

\--------

                When he awoke, he didn’t know if it was morning or afternoon. He could smell the sharp smell of rain and hear the pitter-patter of it outside. With a shaking hand, he reached forward and grasped the dresser in his room. He pulled himself up and stumbled to the window on the other side of the room. A stubbed toe and probably a bruised shin later, Chris got to his destination.

                He hesitantly pressed his hand against the glass. Chilled.

                A broken chuckle left his lips. He forced the window open and shoved a hand outside, the water cold and hitting his hand. Curling his fingers, Chris laughed. Shutting it, he turned and felt his way out of his room and down the stairs. He could hear his parents once again shouting, the two torn on how to treat their son’s disability. Wyatt was once again trying to play mediator. But, Chris didn’t care.

                His hand graced each wall as he made his way towards the front door. Opening it, a gust a clean, crisp air hit him. Hesitantly, he walked out.  He made his way down the small set of stairs slowly before walking down the small pathway that led to the street.

                The rain drenched him. His shirt was sticking to him, as well as his sweatpants. He spread his arms wide, his face up.

                And he…

                Laughed.

                He could hear rushed footsteps behind him before he heard his name shouted behind him. Instinctively, he twisted around. He could hear his brother sigh in relief before he was embraced tightly.

                Leaning back, Chris cupped Wyatt’s face and met his eyes with his unseeing ones; a soft smile on his face.

                “I want to heal.”


End file.
